


What do I care?

by Follevolo



Series: Tumblr prompts [12]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar!Ian, Gallavich, M/M, fluff!gallavich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 06:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1635368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Follevolo/pseuds/Follevolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Mickey and Ian fight because Ian won't take his meds and they eventually tell each other "i love you" and the rest of the Gallaghers hear it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	What do I care?

Mickey knew something was off the moment he entered Gallaghers kitchen; Lip and Fiona were sitting at the table and they immediately made eye-contact with him, their expressions so alike it was the first time Mickey realized they truly were brother and sister. They looked at him both with exasperation, sadness and hope, like he was the one and only savior who could solve all their problems. Fiona had hidden tears behind her big eyes; Mickey could tell, because he was an expert of hiding his tears for Ian Gallagher.

So it was not such a surprise when Mickey turned around and saw Ian painting the fridge, mumbling something similar to “everything is art, art is everything”. He had the biggest smile on his face, but to Mickey it seemed so fake, like it was cutting his face in two painfully, while his eyes were numb and too far away for Mickey to reach them.

It was not such a surprise. But that didn’t make it less painful. Mickey sighed and rubbed his eyes with his palms.

There it goes.

«Ian?» he reached over, touching his shoulder with a hand.

«Hey!» An enthusiastic expression was painted on his face when he saw Mickey, it was like the sun has entered the room and lighten up everything around them. Was it true that happiness in Ian’s lips, in his eyes? Was it true, authentic happiness? Was Mickey the one who made it happen? Or was it his illness? Mickey didn’t know anymore, and it broke his heart.

«Hey, stranger. What are you doing?» He said tentatively, not looking at him in the eyes, but focusing casually on the fridge, which didn’t look like a fucking piece of art, to him. It was more like it was dirty with colors.

«Oh, I saw this video on Youtube of this guy who paints second-handed objects and then sells them on Ebay like art. It’s easy money, you know, and it’s creative and eco-friendly and…»

«Yeah, yeah, Picasso. But after you sell it, you will need to buy a new fridge» Mickey knew trying to reason with him was just useless, but he couldn’t quite let go the idea that somewhere under all that bullshits, his Ian was still there, listening to him.

Ian shrugged, and instantly stopped caring about Mickey, turning back to his art work.

«Ian, have you… have you taken your meds today?»

«Nope! I’m feeling so fine, don’t need them anymore.»

«Okay. And… What about yesterday?»

«Yesterday I was fine, too.»

Mickey felt a strange taste in his mouth, and he realized he has been biting his bottom lip so hard his mouth was full of blood. It tasted funny, like anger, and bitterness, and regrets, and that kind of love that makes it hate itself.

He stayed silent for a while, knowing he had to be calm to handle this. He looked to Fiona, who was now clearly on the edge of an explosion. They exchanged one of their sympathetic looks – it had become a thing since Ian was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Lip loved Ian just as much, but he was better at hiding his pain. He reacted in a different way. Fiona and Mickey, though, found themselves together in a spiral of self-blaming and guilt, and Mickey couldn’t even count anymore how many cigarettes they shared outside the psychiatric hospital, or Gallaghers house, trying to tell each other it wasn’t their fault - none of them ever truly believing it.

«Ian, for Christ’s sake. We talked about this. You need to take your meds every day, not just when you’re low. They are not just anti-depressives, you need them to stabilize yourself.»

Ian looked bothered now. He got up and started to dress himself, not looking at Mickey or his brothers in the eyes.

«Where are you going?» Fiona tried to put an hand on his arm, but he shrugged her off.

«For a run» he answered harshly. He turned to Mickey, and his eyes narrowed «I’m tired of everybody babysitting me like I was some kind of broken baby. I know how to take care of myself! Why do I have to justify my choices with you? What do you fucking care? You are not my keeper!»

And just like that, calmness and reason flew out the window, and Mickey had had enough.

«What… what do I care. What do I care?» he repeated, not knowing if he was more shocked or hurt «What do I fucking care? Are you fucking kiddin me! So you don’t fucking know why I came out in front of my father, you don’t know why I follow you wherever you go, you don’t know why I bust my ass everyday to help this two morons with your health insurance? Well, I’ll tell you, fuckhead, sure as hell I’m not doing all this for you to take this shit as if it all was a stupid joke, you fucking selfish idiot! We talked about this! You said you would have fought, you said we would have fought this thing together!» He felt tears pushing harder and harder on his throat, burning harder and harder in his eyes. Fuck. He was going to cry, he knew it. He had to run away before it happened. He turned around and started walking towards the door, but Ian put an hand on his shoulder and forced him to face him.

His face was flushed and teary and Mickey knew the moment he looked him in the eyes, he had reached his Ian, the one trapped underneath the illness and the bullshit and the screams.

«I… I’m tired of being broken. I just wanna be happy, you know? I don’t want a daily reminder that I can’t make it on my own. And you… You are so… I just don’t know why you waste your time on me. You could do so much better. There’s this voice in my head, every night, that just tells me that one of this days you’re gonna realize what a poor choice you made with me, and you’re gonna walk away. And sometimes, sometimes… I want you to. I just want you to go, so I won’t be scared to lose you anymore, I won’t feel guilty every second for making the love of my life miserable and tired all the time. It’s hard enough to see my family suffer because of me, I just love you too much to let you deal with it for the rest of our lives! I want you to be happy…»

Ian was on the floor, hugging his long legs and resting his forehead on his knees, sobbing soundly. It took Mickey several seconds to internalize Ian’s words in his head, to get their true meaning, to understand what there was under all that fear. He knew Lip and Fiona were looking at them in shock, and he surprised himself not caring a bit that they were seeing him crying. He fell on the floor in front of Ian and grabbed his face in his hands, kissing him hard on the mouth and talking to him slowly and steady between every peck.

«You… are… not… a… burden.» he cleared, forcing Ian to look at him «I know it was not easy at first, and I know I tried to push you away so many times in the last three years. But you sneaked under my skin, and I couldn’t let you get out of my life even if you tried. Because you are the only light, Ian. You are the only one with whom I feel free to be myself, and be truly happy, and be weak and ridiculous… You saved me so many times, you showed me a world I didn’t know I deserved to see. You made me realize I could be the kind of guy who takes care of people he loves. Who makes things better instead of just destroying them. So, no. I will never leave, okay? Tell that stupid voice in your head to shut the fuck up. Cos I can’t be happy if I’m not with you. I fucking love you, for Christ’s sake…»

And just like that, they were smiling into each other’s mouths.

They couldn’t tell if it was seconds or hours after that, but they both turned around, distracted by a soft but constant sobbing. Lip was hugging Fiona, who was looking at them with tears in her eyes.

«Mick…» she whispered, trying to control herself but failing miserable. He nodded, smiling reassuringly at her.

«You have to take your meds, Ian» he said, sounding threatening and imploring altogether.

«I know. Won’t happen again, promise» Ian’s eyes were on the floor, a shadow of shame on his face. Mickey rolled his eyes and hugged him, muttering a «come here», caressing his neck with his fingers and pushing his head in his chest.

«I love you»

«I love you too, fuckhead»


End file.
